


Spit It Slow

by gloss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prompt Fic, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Shotgunning, To Something Else, space weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7372921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/pseuds/gloss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe's in way over his head, just so far gone. Head over heels, lovestruck, besotted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spit It Slow

**Author's Note:**

> More purple spiceswagspace weed shotgunning. Either I'm unoriginal or I know what I like or probably both.
> 
> @savvymavvy requested: _Can rough sex and shotgunning go in the same prompt? Is that a thing that can exist? :D Or actually just like a really really obnoxiously dirty talk stormpilot fic with Finn getting his dirty mouth on. #shrug_ To which all I can say is: get you a pornographer who can do ~~both~~ all three.
> 
> Thanks to G. for the instabeta, she is the best. ♥ Title from A$AP Rocky, Purple Swag.

It's a very intricate supply chain, from Kes's drying sheds to packed away at the bottom of a shipment of fruit, solvents, and ball bearings from Yavin-4 to Coruscant, where the pallet's emptied and pressed into service for shipping coolant parts to the Republic Navy's outpost on Taris, where the quartermaster diverts 30% of the shipment to one of Calrissian's numerous middlemen. On Cartao, the parts are disassembled, marked up, and the pallet repacked by a stevedore-droid, STV-931, who plays holo-dejarik with BB-8 every weekend. From STV-931, the package finally heads directly to Commander Poe Dameron, or one of his aliases, for his eyes only, highly classified.

"And that," Poe concludes, "is why my dad and BB-8 are the best, no contest."

BB-8 chirps in agreement. One tray opens, dispensing the perfectly rolled joint. As it closes, his lighter arm extends, and Poe leans in to light the joint, his lips smacking appreciatively.

"But purple spice is legal," Finn says. "Has been for years. Why go through all that?"

Over his shoulder, Poe frowns at him. "Because it's _awesome_ , why do you think?"

"That bill of lading said Cmdr Porgana and F.," Finn points out. "You're Porgana, obviously --"

Poe grins. "It works, right? Rolls right off the tongue."

"Which makes me F." Finn squints. "I need an alias. Back to the point, though --"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's for me, too."

Poe inhales and holds the smoke for longer than necessary. When he speaks, his voice is strained. "No idea what you could mean."

"Give it --" Finn makes to grab for the joint, but Poe ducks, twirls, and slips out of reach. "Poe, come _on_!"

"Mine."

"Share."

Planting the joint in the corner of his mouth, Poe crosses his arms and tries to growl. It comes out more like a choked giggle, but he tries to hold himself together. "Mine. Get your own."

"Man, this is unfair," Finn says. He tucks his chin down against his shoulder and tries to knock Poe off-balance. Poe's already halfway to stoned, so he stumbles, the jay falls from his lips, and then they're crawling across the floor, fighting to be the first to retrieve it.

Finn wins. Poe lets him win, but he would've won anyway. It just would've taken a little longer. He's younger, and stronger, and he _whoops_ when he wins, which is a pretty great sound, but the greatest when he's half on top of your back, one arm wrapped around your neck, so you're trapped and crushed and noises flashes right through you.

Heaving for breath, they slip apart to lean against the wall. Beaming, Finn pinches the jay and puffs on it until the ember catches again. "Oh, yeah," he says, tipping back his head, letting the smoke drift from his mouth like he doesn't have a care in the world, "that's the stuff. That's _my_ stuff."

Poe punches his shoulder. "Share."

"Excuse me?" Finn holds it in his far hand, arm extended, and says again, "excuse _me_? Excuse you, Dameron. Mine, I won it."

"You're a good person, though," Poe says. "A fair-minded individual who knows it's better to share."

"Which makes you...what, exactly?"

"Someone who'd be _very_ appreciative if you were to share your -- let's be clear here -- ill-gotten gains. Your booty, if you will."

Finn's smile breaks open, huge from the get-go. "Booty, huh?"

"In the sense of stolen goods!" Head in his hands, Poe pinches the bridge of his nose. "Dirty fucking filthy mind."

"You know it," Finn says and lowers his voice. "How appreciative are we talking here?"

Poe opens one eye to glance at him. "How appreciative would it take?"

"I don't know, man," Finn says and takes another hit. Just the secondhand smoke smells so good that Poe's mouth waters a little. "It's good stuff. I'm inclined to keep all for me, myself, and maaaaybe I, but probably not."

"I'll blow you."

Finn laughs, then sucks a few furls of smoke back into his mouth. "Man, how is that any different than usual?"

"Point."

"Excellent point, thank you."

"I'll blow you," Poe starts again, "so slow that you'll be half-crazy before I get much past your cockhead. I'll get two fingers inside you, other hand on your balls, and I'll work my tongue until you're shouting."

Finn turns slightly to face him. "Go on."

"I'm going to be working my tongue around the head for so long you'll be thrashing. Especially that spot --" Poe stops to turn, too, and spread his legs a little farther apart. "-- right below the slit, underside, the one that makes you cry."

"Not fair," Finn says, voice a little hollow.

"Very fair, my friend. Maybe I'll take a break to suck on your balls for a good long time, just get them so wet, weigh 'em on my tongue, bat them around, stuff them both in my mouth and try to swallow them whole --"

"Here --" Finn lunges at him, joint first. 

Poe stops him, hand on Finn's broad chest, and watches, smiling, as Finn's mind tries to catch up with his body. Finn gapes a little, looks from the joint to Poe and back again, mouth working.

"Give it to me," Poe says, closing his fingers in Finn's shirt, pulling him closer, smearing his mouth over Finn's. 

"Man, I'm trying though --"

"Give it," Poe says again, and sucks on Finn's lower lip to taste the smoke and spit, "to me."

"Ohhh," Finn says eventually. "Right. Yeah."

He slips away a little, breaking the kiss slowly, and takes another hit. His eyes go round as he sucks in _a lot_ , and Poe's already waiting, tipping in, opening his mouth, when Finn pushes his hand through Poe's hair, grasps his neck, and hauls him in. He exhales, steady and slow, while Poe sucks him in, half his mouth, a lot of tongue, so much smoke that he sees flashes of black before Finn gentles his hold and eases him back.

"Easy, man," Finn says, thumb soothing down the rim of Poe's ear. "I was just kidding. You can have it all."

"No, it's great, I want --" Poe kisses him again. "Give me another."

"Take it --"

He crumples Finn's shirt in his hand. "I want you to --"

"Okay," Finn says, quickly but calmly, "I hear you, got it." 

He leans away, inhales, and then he's twisting his fingers in Poe's hair, pulling him back in, kissing him and breathing out. His hand is big and soft against Poe, cupping him, thumb stroking slowly. He keeps pressing up and over until Poe's bending back, and back, and Finn's landing on him, the smoke long since gone, the kiss widening and deepening. Finn groans a little into Poe's mouth, kicks one of his legs open, and grinds up against him.

The spice loosens the top of Poe's skull, just enough, and blurs his vision a little. This, loosened and half-open, Finn moving heavily atop him, keeping him right here, is what he needed.

Finn pushes up on one hand and carefully pinches out the joint, setting it out of reach. BB-8 chimes happily, scooting up to retrieve it before trundling away.

"Hey," Poe says faintly, "what if I wasn't finished?"

"You're just getting started." Finn waggles his eyebrows. It's _terrible_ , a joke worthy of Poe at his laziest, but then he grins, eminently pleased with himself, and Poe grins back.

"You need to lay off the extra rations --" Poe pushes at Finn's shoulder, not very hard, "you're crushing me."

"Crushing you, huh?" Finn rolls his hips and Poe's legs open more, just like that, one hooking around the back of Finn's knee. "Poor guy."

"Stoned and smashed to pieces by a big handsome man." Poe tries to sound mournful. "What a way to go, woe."

"Sounds like your dream come true," Finn says, and grabs-rolls Poe until they're switching positions, Poe splayed out on him. Poe kisses him hard - it's always hard, that's a stupid thing to note, but then it softens and sweetens, and it's _Finn_ , humming into his mouth and palming his head and groping Poe's ass.

"Yeah, fine, also that," Poe says, pushing himself free to crouch between Finn's legs. His hands fumble pointlessly at Finn's fly. "What the fuck are you wearing, are these _locked_?"

"Chastity device," Finn says, entirely seriously, half-sitting up and looking up at Poe through his lashes. He bites his lip. "Just yours, baby."

Poe shoves him. "Asshole."

"Just because you're too stoned to work simple fasteners," Finn says, rocking back, then pushing Poe even harder, "doesn't mean you need to _insult_ me."

"Oh, was that an insult?" Poe wants to jump to his feet, spice-hyperness shivering through him, but his balance is fucked in at least three different ways right now, so first he has to kneel, then push himself up with one hand on the floor, the other on the wall. 

Finn's just sitting there, knees bent, arms looped around them loosely, laughing at him.

"Never mind, we're even now," Finn says when his laughter slows. "Do you need a hand? Where are you going?"

Poe extends his hand, fully intending to pull Finn up against him, get his mouth back on Finn's, but instead Finn just tugs him and Poe crumple-sinks down. Finn holds his hips and kisses him, deep and wet.

"You taste so fucking good," Poe tells him. Finn's laughter starts up again and Poe tries to swallow it. It doesn't have a flavor, but it's rumbling and burbling right down his chest into his dick.

"You've mentioned," Finn says, hand back in Poe's hair. "You want to make good on your appreciation, by the way?"

"Oh, yeah," Poe says, " _that's_ what I was doing, cool. Thanks."

Finn bites at his jaw, then pushes his shoulder down. "Dementia? Memory problems?"

"Distracted," Poe says, "you'd understand if you could see you."

"Distracted by me from...fucking me?"

"It makes sense! Perfect sense, fuck you, open your pants."

Finn lets out a long whistle, as he pulls apart the fasteners on his fly with just one hand. The other's still on Poe's head, his neck, in his hair. "Better?"

"Yeah. Much." Poe slides down until he's propped up on one of Finn's thick thighs; he rubs his cheek against the muscle as he strokes Finn's cock. "Hey, you're really hard, huh?"

"It happens," Finn says, "see, when someone's talking _half_ as dirty as you do."

Poe jacks him a couple times, then smiles up and flutters his lashes. "Flatterer."

"Nah," Finn says, hand back on his cheek. "You're just --" He bucks and hisses when Poe mouths the underside of his shaft. " _Fuck_ , Poe."

"Keep talking," Poe says. He raises his head to meet Finn's eyes. "Seriously. Keep talking. Just do it."

"Yeah, okay," Finn says and he starts to frown, that face he makes when he's going to try hard and do his best (and outdo everyone in a three-star-system radius, which he'd do _anyway_ , but try telling him that). "I'll try --"

"Don't try. Do it." Poe pushes his mouth down over Finn's cockhead, locking his lips right under its flare, and swirls his tongue.

"Okay, okay," Finn says, and sucks in a breath, then repeats himself. "Okay, okay, this is good, this is hot, you're so hot, I can't do this like you do but --" Poe looks up, stopping his tongue, loosening his cheeks, and Finn's resting on one elbow looking down at him. He huffs and shakes his head. "Because you're a _dirty_ fucking minded person, man. You're sexy and hot and you do this shit that makes me come in my pants --"

"Mmmf," Poe tells him, which makes _perfect sense_ , thanks, and gets back to work. He can't look away, though, not for a while, watching Finn's head roll loose on his neck and his torso twist. He's trying so hard to keep his hips still that the muscles in his legs are leaping against Poe's side.

"-- you just, _fuck_." Finn sits up a little, his dick angling deeper into Poe's mouth, and grins when he realizes what he's done. He leans back, sits up, leans back, fucks gentle and shallow for a while. "Okay, that's really good, you're so good at this, you're _so_ good at cocksucking, I don't know --"

"Hrmmnnn --" Poe starts to say as Finn's dick throbs against his tongue and fills his mouth.

Gulping, Finn nods rapidly, "No, no, I'm getting to it, sorry, just getting warmed up, I --"

He squeezes Finn's leg and swallows the pre-cum, then the head that's nudging his throat.

"-- you're so good at, but I don't know, maybe you don't realize how good it looks? How much I like it?" Finn pushes himself up onto his knees, then twists and _hops_ to his feet, pulling out, leaving Poe with an open mouth, spit all over his chin, tilting forward. Finn grabs him by the arm, righting him, then seizes Poe's head and drives it down on his dick. Poe grunts around him, palms flat on Finn's knees, and gets back to work. "'cause, man, I love it. Love fucking your mouth, love making you drool for it, love coming down your throat --"

Finn's hand is twisting the back of Poe's hair, around and around, then widdershins, as he rocks in deeper, his breath starting to whistle. He yanks Poe's head back and thrusts _down_ , grinning down at Poe, his face a distant, beaming moon, mouth working, teeth flashing. All Poe really sees is the dusky aubergine of his shaft, the tight nubby whorls of his pubes, but when his eyes start to close, Finn scrapes his nails into Poe's scalp.

"Love watching you like that, taking way too much, sucking like you're born for it, I want --"

Poe wraps his arms around Finn's ass now, pulling himself as close as he can, fighting to keep his eyes open, not to break the gaze. 

"-- want to come so hard it comes out your nose," Finn says, and he's not smiling any longer, his brows drawing together, his balls smothering Poe's chin and neck. Finn bears down, moving Poe's head for himself, fucking into his throat. "Want to come so hard it comes out your _dick_ , Poe, _fuck_ \--"

Poe's got the fingers of both hands in Finn's crack, holding on for leverage and splitting him open, seeking his hole, as he swallows and swallows and watches Finn bend nearly double over him.

"You've got to fuck me, Poe, I need --" He shoves back against Poe's searching fingers, drops a little, bending at the knees, and throws his head back, pumping into Poe's mouth, his throat. "Fuck, _fuck_."

Poe moans, makes Finn feel it as he swallows, keeps his mouth all the way down, sunken, tongue gentle until, wheezing, Finn releases his hair and pushes him away by the forehead. He starts to slide down the wall, but Poe gets him around the knees, tackling him down onto the hard, unforgiving floor, yanking his trousers down to his ankles.

"I'm going to," Poe tells him, mouth on Finn's ear, Finn's cum smudging his lips. "You're _killing_ me, you know that?"

"I'm sorry --" Finn tries to turn, tries to kiss him, but Poe bites the side of his neck and opens his own flies, yanking his cock out. 

"Don't be," Poe says, tipping Finn over until he's on his hands and knees, ass in the air. He digs both hands into Finn's ass, roughly, spreads him and spits on his crack. "You're not, anyway. You know what you're doing to me, you always do --"

Finn's head drops, his shoulders working and bowing. He might be laughing, or just trying to catch his breath.

"You _do_ ," Poe says, feeding two fingers into Finn's mouth, swiping them around like a med-droid does a swab, then working them quickly around his hole. When he pushes them up inside, Finn's head lifts and he shouts, pushing back, his hips rolling. "See? You know it. You know what you want."

"Fuck," Finn says, head turned again, trying to see Poe. He's glorious like this, sweat shining down his back, two fingers in his tight hole, his teeth in his own skin. "Poe, please, please --"

"Ssshh," Poe says and clucks his tongue and works his fingers a little deeper. He's so hot inside, hot and tight like nothing else, and he's dropping his hips again, raising his ass, sucking Poe's fingers in deeper. "What do you want?"

Finn's eye closes, then squeezes tightly shut. He mumbles, not moving his mouth from his shoulder, but Poe clucks his tongue again. Finn opens his eye, lifts his mouth a little, and says, clear as anything, needy and urgent but so damn, beautifully _clear_ , "Fuck me. Please, just." He sucks on a breath, then another, and Poe feels the exhale from the inside, feels Finn push and loosen and _open_. "Fuck me, hard as you can."

"Yeah," Poe says. There are a thousand dirty things he's going to say -- fuck you so hard my dick comes out your mouth; fuck you til you forget your own name; come so deep inside you and fuck you harder, use my own cum for lube; fuck you all night; fuck you til you're **mine** ; fuck. -- and he will, soon. 

But he's spitting on his palm, slicking his dick more for the ritual of the thing than anything useful, then opening and spreading Finn wider, that little stripe of secret skin half a shade paler and ruched, like the stripe down his jacket's arms, swirling into a pucker. He spits again, lines himself up, and then Finn's chanting, over and over, the spondees spiralling higher, louder, "Poe, fuck me, Poe, fuck me, Poe fuck --"

His dick's so hard it starts to bend as he tries to thrust inside; he has to tug at Finn's hole with his crooked thumb. His knees hurt already on this terrible floor, and his cockhead's crushing itself, flattening. 

Finn pushes back, Poe bites his cheek and eases forward, and everything hangs, pauses, and stretches, time swaying and lengthening. Hyper-jump, spice inhale, trigger release and blaster bolt streak: Bright things that don't last but hover. Persistence of vision, stubborn as anything.

"Poe, _fuck_ ," Finn shouts and collapses onto his folded arms, ass striking Poe's thighs, taking him inside, almost all the way. More than far enough that Poe's seeing black, curtains of it, heavy sheets, and then, finally, stars that prickle, catch, and flare, until he's sunk all the way in and his hips are working.

"Keep talking," he says, drags himself almost all the way out, shoves back in. "You're so tight, _fuck_. How are you so tight? So perfect, so beautiful. Hotter than a sun, you're burning me out --"

Finn's hips are working fast and jittery, grinding back, lifting and falling. His shoulders take most of his weight and bow, the blades lifting sharply. "Harder, man. Make me --"

"Yeah, yeah," Poe says and leans all the way back, pulls out and runs his cock up and down Finn's crack until Finn's pushing up onto his palms again, looking over his shoulder, moaning.

His cheeks are wet and shiny, his mouth open, tongue pink over sharp white teeth. Poe grasps his hip, digging in, and pushes in hard, short thrusts back in, a stuttering, stammering slide that makes Finn's mouth open wider, his moans going lower and lower as he fucks backward. He falls again, forehead rolling on one arm, but his other hand's still flat on the floor, giving him leverage to corkscrew back. He bears down on Poe when Poe's buried in, then clenches hard, slows the pull out, fucks Poe's dick every bit as surely as Poe's fucking him.

"You're going to come again," Poe tells him, after a couple tries when his throat simply emptied, dry. "Do you want me to touch you?"

Finn shakes his head and works his hand down onto himself. "I'll do it."

"Nice," Poe says, "pretty." He kisses the rise of one shoulder-blade, runs his teeth down it. He can't speak in much more than bursts. "I want --"

"I'm going to come," Finn says, like it's both an instruction and a desire. Command and need. He switches his hips back and forth and groans wetly. "I want to --"

"Come on my cock, sweetheart." Poe's folded all the way over now, pushing and thrusting so deep that his balls are spread against Finn's ass without much room to move, let alone swing. "I want you, _fuck_. All the time, come on, tell me it's good --"

Finn throws his head back, presses his cheek against the side of Poe's head, grinding into his hand. Inside, he's flaring hot, spun so tight and crushingly hard around Poe that they're never going to separate, Poe's just going to melt, graft himself up deep and stick fast.

"So good, Poe, it's -- you're --" Finn's mouth clacks shut, then falls open, his orgasm writhing through him, dragging out Poe's. Finn howls a little, then collapses down and Poe has to kneel back, hold him by both hips and fuck fast and shallow through the shuddering pulses and clenches. "Shoot in me, come on, come in me, _Poe_ \--"

He loves saying Poe's name, hearing his own. Poe falls on top of him, rolls them on their sides, shoots with Finn curled nearly circular in his arms, one leg high up against his chest. Poe bites his neck, the crook of his shoulder, tries to let it soothe into a kiss as he finishes coming, the last pumps of it deeper, achier, than ever.

"Finn," he's saying, mouth finally easing, melting, tongue swirling over the bites. "Finn, _Finn_. Finnnnn."

Finn shivers against him, squeezes his dick a couple times, and stretches, legs first, then his arms. "Damn."

"You feel so good," Poe tells him, eyes closed, mouth latching onto one vertebra just below here his neck becomes his back. "Finn."

Finn covers Poe's arm and hand with his own. "You do."

Poe laughs into Finn's sweaty, sweet skin, rubs his face against it. "I'm so gone. _Fuck me_."

They breathe together for several moments, maybe minutes. "Stoned-gone, you mean, right?" Finn asks.

"That, too," Poe tells him, tipping his head back and whistling for BB-8. "Speaking of which --"

He pulls out, wincing, and shifts onto his back to do up his pants. Finn follows him, though, rolling onto his other side, hand going to Poe's crotch, maybe helping, maybe preventing him from closing.

"What other kind of gone?" he asks, his eyes bright in the dark as BB-8 approaches. Poe's half-glad, half-devastated, that he can't see Finn's full expression. He knows it so well, sees it every night, sees him sweaty and gorgeous, two seconds from begging Poe for help on the Finalizer. Finn doesn't have to beg him for anything; he doesn't know yet, might not ever really know, but he's had it all, everything, such as it is, that Poe has to give, ever since then.

Given that fact, given that he just shot at least a good 80% of higher brain function out his dick (and he'd do it again), Poe has no choice but to go for it.

"Head over heels," Poe replies, sitting up, lighting the roach from BB-8. He beckons Finn closer, brushing their mouths together, feels the slight pull as Finn inhales the smoke spilling out. "Lovestruck, heartsick, enamored. Besotted. _Gone_."

Finn cocks his head, looking him over.

Poe shrugs as casually as he can. "That's not my best dirty talk, give me a minute."

"It's fine," Finn says, so softly it could be a whisper. "It's good."

They're alone in this warehouse, on this moon, probably in this system, but Poe whispers back anyway. He cups his hand over the curve of Finn's shoulder, then leans over until they're huddled together.

"I hope so," he whispers and his head's a million kilometers away and cold. "Really do."

Finn twists at the waist, kisses him tenderly, almost chastely if not for the flicker of tongue and nip of teeth. "More than fine. Very good. So good."


End file.
